Rough Justice

by Sarah Castille

“Seriously?” Dawn raised her eyebrow. “You told me it was the best sex you ever had.”

  “It was the most intense sex I’ve ever had. With the most intense man I’ve ever met. He seems to think his ‘blood price’ claim means he owns me body and soul. He said he’d never let me leave Conundrum.”

  Dawn twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “Maybe that’s his way of saying he doesn’t want you to leave. Most bikers I know aren’t good with expressing emotion.”

  Arianne snorted. “What’s so hard about saying, ‘Hey, we had great sex. I like you. Don’t leave’? Why all the drama and scowling and stomping around growling ‘mine’?”

  “I don’t know.” Dawn’s lips curled in a smile. “What’s so hard about saying, ‘Hey, we had great sex. I like you. I’ll stay’?”

  “Because I don’t know if I can stay.”

  “Do you want to stay?”

  “I want the option.” Arianne twisted her mother’s ring around her finger. “Before I arranged to buy the passports, I had no option. I ran because the alternative was unbearable, but I always knew he would find me and bring me back. But once I have the passport, I’ll know that if I leave, it will be forever. I want that choice. A real choice. Then I’ll be able to think clearly. I won’t be afraid to make the wrong choice, because I’ll know I have an out if I do.”

  Dawn’s face softened. “You must really like him. A few weeks ago, you wouldn’t even have talked about options. You were going. End of story.”

  Arianne’s cheeks flushed. “I feel like I know him, understand him. He’s Viper, but with heart, soul, and the kind of body you just want to lick all over.”

  The bartender returned with a pretty, red-headed waitress who promised to keep Wheels and T-Rex entertained and well supplied with drinks. After she reached the prospects’ table, the bartender motioned to them to follow, and they quickly rounded the bar, then walked single file down a narrow hallway to a small room at the end of the corridor.

  The infamous Bunny—a pasty-faced, middle-aged man with a good-sized paunch and a receding hairline—gestured them inside from behind a wooden desk. If not for the two burly bodyguards standing on either side of him, the Beretta on the table, and the coldest, darkest eyes Arianne had ever seen outside the Black Jack clubhouse, he could have been anyone’s dad.

  Bunny’s gaze flicked from Dawn to Arianne and then back to Dawn. “You.”

  “Me.”

  “You back in the game?”

  Dawn lifted a cool shoulder. “Just helping out a friend. My girl’s looking to buy some guns for a customer of yours. Jeff Wilder.”

  Arianne poked Dawn in the side and glared. “You know Bunny? Why didn’t you tell me you knew him?”

  Bunny leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms behind his head, his gaze raking over Arianne’s body, leaving a bitter tang in her mouth. “’Cause she doesn’t want to know me. Bad things happen to people who know me. Like that piece of scum, Jeff. How are you involved with him?”

  “He’s my brother.”

  Dawn hissed a warning a second too late. Bunny’s ears perked up and his brow furrowed. “Viper’s daughter. Interesting. Never knew he had a daughter. I’ve had enough problems dealing with your brother. Not so sure I want to double my risk and deal with you, too. What’s it worth to you?”

  “What do you want?”

  “You. On your knees. Between my legs to start. Dee can stay and watch. She likes that kind of thing.”

  Dawn bristled. “Fuck you, Bunny.”

  He cocked his head to the side and leered. “You want in on the action, Dee, just say the word. I’ll take you both at the same time.”

  Arianne’s throat burned. “How about we stick with cash?”

  “Got enough cash. Don’t got enough pussy. Maybe if I had enough pussy, I’d remember if I had any weapons lying around.”

  Vile, disgusting, lecherous bastard. But she’d known men like him—the Jacks seemed to attract the lowest of the low—and she knew how to handle his unwanted advances, his pathetic attempts to shock her. At heart, men like Bunny wanted a challenge. She only had to threaten him to gain his respect.

  Steeling herself to keep her face impassive and her voice calm, she said, “Maybe Viper would like to know that you’re supplying Jeff under the table.”

  His face hardened, but she caught a glimmer of interest in his eyes. “He tell you that?”

  She bit back a smile. “Jeff does what Viper tells him to do. Only thing he does on his own is drugs, and they’re always in short supply. Since you’re the man who can get anything, I figured he’d go to you.”

  Bunny scowled. “Maybe you’d like to use that smart mouth to pay off the five grand your brother owes me so I don’t break his legs next time I see him. Once he and I are square, then we can talk weapons.”

  “Gimme a couple of hours on your tables, and I’ll have your money.”

  Bunny cocked his head to the side, considering. “You shoot pool?”

  “Viper might have taught me a thing or two.”

  “Still want that fucking honey sweet mouth of yours, so how about you play my boy Peter? You win, I give you the contact details of someone who can supply your brother. Guaranteed. You lose, and you spend the rest of the night with those sweet lips wrapped around my dick.”

  Arianne looked over at Dawn and got a vehement head shake despite the fact that Dawn had seen her play. Arianne had no idea how good Peter was, but as she’d told Jagger, when Viper taught a lesson, you never forgot it.

  “I’ve been saving this mouth for someone special.” She licked her lips for effect. “So if I win, Jeff’s debt is erased and you give me the details.”

  Bunny huffed. “Definitely Viper’s daughter. We got a deal. But I have to warn you, my boy’s been playing since he was five years old.”

  Arianne laughed. “Then he started three years too late.”

  “Nononononononono.”

  Arianne ignored Dawn’s moan and kept her focus on the striped ball on the pool table in front of her. Bunny hadn’t lied. His son, Peter, was good. Damn good. But he’d missed a shot early on, and now she had control of the table. She took her shot, and the ball bounced off the bumper, knocking two striped balls into their pockets before spinning into the corner. Peter exhaled an irritated breath and headed over to his table at the back of their section, calling for his friends to pour him a drink.

  “What’s wrong?” Arianne chalked the cue as she considered the table. She was up by two now with only two to go, but if she missed, she just might be handing the game to Peter, who was now glowering at her from the corner.

  “It’s Cade.”

  Arianne’s hand clenched around the cue. Had the Sinners come for her? Jagger had let her go out with Dawn after she’d swallowed her pride and asked permission. Even teenagers were allowed to stay out until midnight, and she still had her chaperones leaning against the wall, sweating because she’d refused to leave when they asked.

  She lowered her voice, although Peter and his friends were far enough away, there was little chance they could overhear. “Is he alone?”

  “So far. I think he’s scouting. Damn. I thought I’d never see him again. I mean, that night we had together after the bar fight was hot, but I’m not looking for anything more than a one-night stand. Don’t need another man in my life bossing me around.”

  Arianne glanced up just as Cade spotted them. “You could have done a lot worse for a one-night stand. He’s pretty damn easy on the eyes. I mean, if he wasn’t a biker, he could have been a movie star or a model—the angry, sullen type.”

  Cade barked a few words into his phone and headed toward them, quickly eating up the distance with easy strides of his long, lean legs. T-Rex detached himself from the wall and walked over to greet him.

  “Awkward.” Dawn moaned again. “What am I going to say to him? I kinda ran out that night when he was asleep.”

  Arianne bit back a laugh before leaning over the table. “Tell him you
had to get to work.”

  “It was Sunday morning.”

  “Church?”

  Dawn snorted. “Not if I want to go up in flames. I mean, seriously, the things we did … That man is kink on a stick.”

  “Jogging?”

  “With these?” She cupped her breasts. “I’d probably fall over or knock myself out.”

  “Not a problem I can sympathize with.” Arianne mentally calculated angles and trajectories as Dawn fidgeted beside the table. If she wanted to win the game, she would need to keep control right until the end.

  Dawn twisted her lips to the side and leaned against the table. “I was a coward and now I gotta pay the price. Just never thought I’d see him again.”

  “You talking or are you playing?” Peter shouted. He drained his glass and scowled. Tall and thin where Bunny was short and round, he had the same cold eyes and giant hook of a nose as his father. His posse of inebriated friends laughed.

  “She knows she’s gonna lose,” one of them shouted. “She’s trying to distract you with that sweet ass so she can play with your balls.”

  More laughter. Snickers. Arianne focused on the table and ignored the immature comments. “I don’t know why you’re complaining,” she whispered to Dawn. “You had a good time. He had a good time. No strings attached. You’re both adults.”

  “I’m not complaining. I’m embarrassed.” Dawn plastered a smile on her face just as Cade reached their corner. “I’ve never had to face down a one-night stand who wanted more than one night.”

  Cade stopped in front of them, giving Dawn a curt, cold nod of greeting before turning to Arianne. “Jagger’s looking for you.”

  She made her shot, sinking the ball in the corner pocket. “Here I am. But you’ll have to excuse me, ’cause I’m in the middle of a game.”

  “He doesn’t like you being here.”

  Arianne sidestepped him and considered the table, pulling her cloak of false bravado tight around her. She’d managed to hold her own with Bunny; she could handle Cade. “Then he shouldn’t have said I could come.”

  Cade grunted. “You belong to the club. Club protects you. But we can’t do that if you put yourself in danger.”

  “Only danger I’m facing is losing the game because you won’t stop talking.” She took another shot, slamming the ball into the side pocket, and Peter shouted a curse. Cade’s head jerked around and he glared.

  “You with him?”

  “Seriously?” Arianne rolled her eyes. “I like ’em sweet but I don’t like ’em young.”

  Cade gave a warning grunt. “Better watch that mouth around Jagger. He’s fucking pissed, and Wheels and T-Rex are gonna suffer the most for not getting you back to the clubhouse on time.”

  “Jagger likes my mouth.” Arianne met his gaze, her tension easing when she saw amusement flicker in his eyes. “And no one told me I had a curfew. To be fair, though, they might have suggested at one point that it would be a good idea to leave. And I might have suggested that the way club politics works is that you do what the president’s blood price wants you to do ’cause if the blood price is happy, the president will be happy, and if he’s happy, you might get home without any broken limbs.”

  Cade gave her a bemused smile. “Christ. Don’t know how he manages you, but I’m gonna wait right here until he comes. This is gonna be a show I don’t want to miss.”

  He turned to talk to Dawn, and Arianne walked to the far end of the table and bent low to eye the ball. A draft of cool air brushed her hair. The cacophony of voices and the clack of billiard balls quieted and the first few notes of AC/DC’s “Hells Bells” filled the hall. She didn’t need to hear the soft rattle of his belt chain to know he was there. His presence radiated through the entire hall.

  Jagger.

  A thrill of fear shot through her blood. Pulse racing, she focused on the table, trying to ignore the thud of footsteps, the hushed murmur of an intimidated crowd, and the soft creak of riding leathers. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her cue and slid it into position between her first two knuckles.

  His steps didn’t hesitate when he reached the table, and even though she had only to lift her head to meet his gaze, Arianne kept her focus on the ball. This game was too important for distractions. And Jagger was the biggest distraction of all.

  Out of the corner of her eye she caught a flash of leather and the glitter of the chain that hung off his belt. Her body trembled as he neared her, so hot, sweat beaded on her brow.

  And then his hand was on her ass.

  Broad and warm, his palm cupped her right cheek, fingers splayed over the sensitive crease between her thigh and buttock, thumb brushing over the rise. No words. No greeting. No permission.

  See your blood price. Grab her ass. Send her a message she’ll never forget.

  Utterly primitive, wholly possessive, his touch awakened something deep inside her, sweeping away civilized notions of self-respect and independence and awakening a deep primal desire to submit to his unspoken demand.

  But when he squeezed her ass, punctuating the possessive move with a satisfied grunt, desire gave way to being really pissed off. Clearly his fancy speech about respecting women was baloney.

  Steeling herself to control her shaking hands, she looked back over her shoulder and glared. “Why don’t you just stamp ‘Keep Off’ on my ass? Save yourself some time.”

  His gaze met hers, hot, sensual, and unyielding, sparking a firestorm in her blood so intense, she thought she might combust.

  “I just did.” He smoothed his hand over the curve of her buttock, his fingers perilously close to the seam. “If anyone is unclear about my meaning, I’ll kill them.”

  “Caveman.” She muttered the word under her breath, never thinking he would hear.

  Jagger’s hand tightened, his fingers digging into her soft flesh, a pleasure pain that made her mouth water.

  “I walked in here, and every man in front of you was looking down your shirt and every man behind you was staring at your ass.” He smoothed his hand over her buttock, rubbing away the pain. “It took every bit of my self-control not to pound all their fucking heads in because I knew what they were thinking.”

  “What were they thinking?”

  He slid one hand around her waist, pulling her up and against his rock-hard chest, the bulge in his jeans pressed firmly against her rear. “They wanna be the one with their hand on your ass, telling you ‘later’ has come and it’s time to go.”

  Sweat trickled between her breasts and her mouth went dry, but as menacing as he was, the fate she might suffer at his hands couldn’t compare to what faced her if she lost the match. “I’m in the middle of a game. I’m up three to two in a best of three.”

  “It’s over.”

  Damnit to hell. With his men watching and the civilians shooting surreptitious glances their way, she couldn’t tell him to back off and let her finish the game. He’d likely just throw her over his shoulder and storm out the door, and any hope of inveigling him in the future would be lost. No, this called for a subtler approach.

  She wiggled free, then leaned over and took her shot, just scraping the outer edge of the ball, making it spin and then curve into the side pocket. A trick shot. Risky, but she needed to make a point.

  Jagger grunted. “Impressive.”

  “I have five grand riding on this game.” She kept her voice low. “I’m here for business, not pleasure.”

  Jagger twisted his hand through her hair, tugging her head back until she was looking up at him over her shoulder. Then he leaned down and brushed his lips over her ear. “I don’t think you understand what it means to be mine.”

  She nuzzled her nose against the deliciously rough bristles of his cheek, inhaling his scent of leather and musky male, hoping to distract him. “And I don’t think you understand who you think you’ve claimed.”

  He growled, a low, possessive, entirely thrilling sound. “Don’t push me, sweetheart. This is as far as I go.”

  Her h
eart pounded in time to ZZ Top’s “I’m Bad, I’m Nationwide now playing through the speakers.” Over in the corner, she spotted Peter waving his pool cue and gesturing at her while T-Rex and Wheels held him back.

  “I have only two balls left and then a quick meet with Bunny and I’m free to go. I get where you’re coming from, but this is important to me. I need to finish playing, and I need to win.”

  Jagger reacted as if she’d slapped him, his body jerking back. He grabbed her shoulder, pulling her up and spinning her to face him. “That’s why you came here? You’re involved with fucking Bunny?”

  She bit her lip but held his gaze. “We have a business arrangement, but first there was a matter of a debt to clear. If I win, the debt goes and we deal. I gave my word.”

  His face contorted into a fierce scowl. “And if you lose?”

  I have to suck his dick. The words danced on the tip of her tongue and she amused herself, imagining what would happen if she told him. But that wouldn’t be fair to Bunny. He didn’t deserve to die tonight. Instead, she said, “That’s between him and me.”

  Wrong thing to say, judging from Jagger’s scowl. So she turned her back, lifted her cue, and made her call. It wasn’t going to be easy. The cue ball lay over a ball, and she would have to shoot the length of the table off angle. “One ball in the corner pocket.”

  Jagger’s eyes widened. “You got a jacked-up shot there. You really think you can shoot off angle?”

  Seizing on his curiosity, she smiled. “Watch.”

  Her shot was perfect. The one ball slammed home and Cade whistled in appreciation.

  Jagger curled his hand around her neck and pulled her close. “You’re mine means you don’t need to meet with people like Bunny. But you made a deal and you gave your word, so I’ll respect that. Finish your game. But I handle Bunny. He owes you, I collect. You owe him, I shoot him between the fucking eyes. Not doing this because I don’t think you can handle him. I know you can. But Bunny needs to understand we got your back.”

  Every inch of her body protested his intent to take control of the situation, but she bit back her words, gritted her teeth, and nodded her agreement. Jagger wasn’t an ordinary man who might be cajoled or persuaded. Just like Viper, he was a king, used to giving orders and having them followed without question. She’d wrung a concession from him that Viper would never have given, and if she wanted to maintain her advantage, she would have to play the game.